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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25794667">In The Weeds</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyCakes/pseuds/LazyCakes'>LazyCakes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Adventure Zone (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Food Poisoning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Neighbors, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Taako is Angus McDonald's Parent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:34:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,833</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25794667</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyCakes/pseuds/LazyCakes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kravitz is perfectly happy with the house across from his vacant, but the family that moves in throws wrenches into every facet of his life.<br/>in which: Kravitz falls in love with two versions of Taako, Angus is loved deeply, and Taako learns to cook again.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Barry Bluejeans/Lup, Kravitz/Taako (The Adventure Zone)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>83</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Basically I don't think we talk about the fact that Taako lived a huge chunk of his life believing he was responsible for a massacre enough and I'm here to change that.<br/>Also Angus is a little younger because I say so, like 6-7?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kravitz isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>surprised</span>
  </em>
  <span> when the house across the street sells; sure, it’s been on the market for ages, it’s expensive for the area, and there’s a rumor that the man who had lived there before died inside. But he isn’t surprised, really; he’s much more alarmed than anything else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was used to the emptiness of the place across from his. His own house is an anomaly in this neighborhood, smaller (he prefers to call it cozy), and since he prefers his work remain as private as possible, it was nice to not have anyone looking into his house from across the street, noticing the odd hours he keeps or the flashes of light and clouds of smoke he encounters all-too-regularly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he sits in his office at the front of the house when the moving truck arrives, curled back into the darkness, holding a book open to seem as nonchalant as possible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watches a stocky, kind-looking man hustle around nervously, opening doors and tugging boxes out of the truck, followed closely by a young boy dressed in a schoolboy uniform, holding a ragdoll cat over his tiny shoulder, both of them fluttering around a thin, slender figure with blond hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes him entirely too long to realize that there are </span>
  <em>
    <span>two </span>
  </em>
  <span>of these blonds, nearly identical, one with hair cut close to her chin, the other much longer, but it’s tied up, messy, and Kravitz can’t tell exactly how long.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watches the man step back, glancing up and down the street, before nodding, and he and the short-haired blonde draw out wands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Now </span>
  </em>
  <span>Kravitz is really interested; this part of the world doesn’t see too many magicians, especially not anymore, so when the other blond holds his arms out and takes the cat from the little boy, Kravitz practically vibrates to see the child pull out a wand of his own, and the three begin hushing boxes into the house, levitating at awkward levels but all fitting in nonetheless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kravitz watches the lone blond as he paces down the driveway, then back up, and he looks somehow familiar; Kravitz doesn’t get out much, but he’s certain he’s seen him before, an elf, as he comes to the end of the driveway and his figure is a little clearer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His face is tired, shoulders slumped in, and he’s downright woeful where he observes the world around him. The cat is limp, leaned into his neck, and his eyes suddenly dart up to catch Kravitz’. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes are cloudy, tired, but a tiny flash of surprise crosses them when Kravitz freezes, prop book in hand forgotten. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t have time to react before the elf turns away, head tucked down into the cat’s side, and rushes briskly into the house. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He disappears inside, and for the rest of the afternoon, Kravitz watches the other three move boxes by hand. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>These chapters are probably going to be very short for awhile</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kravitz doesn’t hate his job, far from it, but he finds himself distracted for the first time in years by his new neighbors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’ve got a mostly perfect routine hammered down within the first week, not that Kravitz was watching from every window in his house or anything; every morning, the short-haired blonde and the man hug and kiss the child goodbye, and the long-haired blond takes the child by the hand and walks him to the end of the street, where the bus picks him up. The blond always has a huge sun hat on, and it’s low over his face, and when he comes back into the driveway, he opens the garage and begins his work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gardens, for just a precious hour or two each day, in the morning after all the children have left the neighborhood and most of the adults are at work, and disappears into the house around ten or eleven, and nobody re-emerges until the bus is back at the end of the street, and it’s usually the long-haired blond, but sometimes the one with the short hair will come out, but there’s always someone waiting for the school bus, and the little boy comes bouncing off and they duck back into the house. They all disappear inside for a few hours, and Kravitz watches their dinner table from one of the huge windows at the front of the house, sees the man and the female elf on one side of the table, the boy and the male elf on the other. The boy eats quickly, ravenously, and the three adults all seem so proud whenever his plate comes up empty, but the male elf sits with a plate that scarcely has scraps on it, and several nights pass where Kravitz doesn’t see him lift his fork once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, the boy and the man rush out to the front yard, and the two elves curl up on the swing on the front porch, watching as a soccer ball, or foam darts, or sprays of water on warmer days, fly past between the delighted laughter of the two humans they’ve tied their lives to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man wears a simple gold band around his ring finger, and though neither elf wears anything resembling a wedding band, he’s watched the short-haired one lean into his embrace enough times to make an educated guess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, the cat is let onto the porch, but he doesn’t seem allowed to leave it; as soon as a cautious paw hits dirt, he’s ushered back inside, loudly meowing his discontent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the sun sets, the family disappears back inside, and then the light in the front bedroom upstairs comes on, and the male elf and the little boy bustle around the room. From his own front upstairs room — it’s meant to be a bedroom, too, but it’s mostly a library now — Kravitz watches the elf tuck the boy into his bed. This front room is painstakingly decorated for the child. A desk is pushed under the window, and framed pictures stack up and down the wall by his bed, which is small but high off the ground, and the room is painted, the two side walls cream — Kravitz has to assume the front wall as well — with the back one stripes of gray and baby blue. Several shelves are installed and laden with children’s books and a few toys, and a dresser with a huge vanity is stuffed to the brim with clothes, a set of hooks above it lined up with paperboy caps of different styles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man and the female elf are rarely around during the day, though the car stays firmly in the garage; Kravitz guesses the flashes of red light from inside the house are them leaving, so he focuses on the male elf and his gardening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The landscaping is the only thing changing, from day to day, the only part of the routine that deviates; on the first full day in the home, he tore out almost all the old growth, most of it dead or near dying, what of it alive weedy and overgrown. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows—he wore mostly gray, some black, shapeless sweaters and dresses and robes— and dragged the mess to the back of the house, dumping it into the woods. The second day, by the time Kravitz was up and watching, there were three pallets of plants on the front porch, and the elf arranged plants in the mulch he’d torn up all around the house, a huge rosebush at the corner of the house blocking much of it from the main road, smaller collections of tiger lilies up the path to the porch, setting up long strands of creeping vines around the one side of the house, untangling strawberry plants with huge, delicate white flowers on the other. The third day was dedicated to pots; he sat on the porch and pulled two planters out of the house, sitting with one between his legs at a time, filling them symmetrically with lavender and dahlias and some smaller plants Kravitz doesn’t know, sitting them on each side of the front door, stately and sound. He’d seemed most pleased with this, swiping his hands on the backs of his pants and looking them over many times. That night, when the others came home, they sat on the porch and looked at the pots, the other adults sandwiching the male elf between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He teaches the boy how to harvest the lavender, crouched down on his knees with the child tucked between them, long, slender fingers delicate where they cup the child’s dark hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stirring a cup of tea aimlessly, Kravitz watches from behind his counter. He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>spying on the family; he doesn’t try to look in their windows, nor does he ever approach the house, and he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> stalking them; he’s simply observing what’s in front of his own home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nonetheless, the wry, shaky smile the elf has as he cradles the boy, turning to the other adults and brandishing his harvest, is visible even from across the street, and Kravitz wonders what it will take to see him truly smile. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Readers, gun to my head: finish a fanfiction you piece of shit<br/>Me, slurred from my pedestal at Delphi: Taako doesn't turn goth to be dramatic he would be goth if he WASN'T so dramatic</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The seventh day is Saturday, again, and when it’s nine in the morning and the man hasn’t emerged, Kravitz figures it’s finally time to mow his lawn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not a large yard by any means, but Kravitz likes to keep it tidy, so he tugs his braids into a loose ponytail and kicks on his most casual pants, and sets out before the sun gets too high. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time he’s done, the sun is behind the house across the street, and he can only barely see figures moving about inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He goes back into his own house, flipping the TV on to distract, but his eyes keep drifting, away from the screen and across the street, where the little boy is jumping on his bed, a net in hand, the man flicking his wrist like a conductor and sending tiny fountains of glowing bubbles out for him to catch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They turn into butterflies in the boy’s net, fluttering before disappearing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Absolutely beautiful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Enraptured, Kravitz shakes his head, standing up to go back outside, where he can’t see into the upstairs window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking the pushbroom from its hooks in the garage, he sets it upon the pavement, brushing the lawn clippings down the driveway and into the street. He’s doing quite well, for a few moments, the sound of the broom on cement enough to hold his attention, but then a syrupy, weak voice cries out,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin, no!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From across the street. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kravitz freezes and looks up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cat is sprinting across the lawn, tail lashing, and in the doorway, the elven man is dropping his watering can, chasing after him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes Kravitz entirely too long to realize that the cat is rushing </span>
  <em>
    <span>him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he stands motionless as it makes it out into the street, trotting happily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The elf scoops the cat up under the stomach as he catches up, tugging him into place against his shoulder only a few feet from Kravitz. In the open doorway behind him, the female elf is peering out, bent over as she slips shoes on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I—I’m sorry, he’s just not used to the whole idea of</span>
  <em>
    <span> staying indoors</span>
  </em>
  <span> yet—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—It’s alright.” Kravitz finds himself jumping to life, smiling warmly as the elf curls over the cat and deflates shyly. “He’s beautiful! I take it you’re one of my new neighbors?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The elf looks up at Kravitz from where his cheek is nestled into the cat’s fur, eyelashes heavy and almost accusatory, but he extends his free hand into the space between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m...Taako.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The end of his sentence is more like a pause, but he doesn’t continue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kravitz’ ears burn. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’s heard this name before, strange as it is; is he looking at Kravitz like that because he recognizes him, too?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kravitz. Great to meet you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes the extended hand, finds that it’s cold, long fingers trembling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This close, Taako looks like a zombie; his ears droop deeply, and the shadows under his eyes are puffy and purple. His lips are almost wired down, and he’s pale, the evidence of freckles on his face slight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are you from?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Taako! You got Merlin!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The elf woman is at Taako’s shoulder in an instant, smiling brilliantly and curling her hands around his waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lup, this is Kravitz. The...neighbor.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi!” Lup grins, sticking her hand out from around Taako’s body. Kravitz laughs and takes it, and her handshake is almost burningly warm, strong. They would be identical, were Taako healthier; Lup is nicely filled out compared to Taako’s sallow cheekbones, freckles glimmering from her face, eyes crystalline and alert, raking over Kravitz in a second, and her brows pique in dangerous interest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to the neighborhood.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, thank you! Here, come in, tell us about the area!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gesturing around Taako’s body, Lup tugs him back to the house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dropping his broom abruptly, Kravitz follows. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well here's a third chapter in like seven hours</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>GUESS WHO'S BACK<br/>ALREADY<br/>I want to tag this lemonade and make a joke abt the citrus scale but there's no porn here<br/>yet anyway</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>By the time they reach the front door and Taako releases the cat, the boy’s seated at the table, and the man is carefully folding omelets in a pan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin!” The child cries, and the cat lunges for his lap, giggling gleefully even as Lup begins to stutter out, “No, no kitty at the table, c’mon,” and the cat leaps away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Barry, babe, this is the neighbor across the street, Kravitz.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man at the stove turns around with a jovial grin, but his eyes drift over to Taako, standing listlessly in the space between the living room and kitchen, then back to Kravitz. “Hi! Good to meet you! I’m Barry Bluejeans, and I guess you’ve met the twins.” He sticks his hand out, and Kravitz takes it, and his hand is much like who Kravitz assumes is his wife; warm and welcoming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And this is my...nephew, Angus.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking up from the open picture book in front of him, the boy grins and sticks his hand resolutely out, and Kravitz smiles genuinely back. This close, Kravitz can see that he’s a half-elf, ears slightly pointed, canines slightly sharp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, hello! What are you reading there?” Kravitz tries, unsure of how he’s meant to talk to a child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s been a rather long time since he’s needed to talk to a child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angus grins toothily and tilts it up, displaying a cover about mathematics. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just homework.” He flops it back onto the table, focus lost just as quickly as he sees Kravitz turn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow! You work with Miss Lup and Mister Barry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Barry asks, but Kravitz is already flushed, clapping his hand over the back of his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two are reapers?” He cries, watching everyone in the room stiffen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, Lup and Barry roll up their sleeves, exposing the insides of their arms, where identical raven skulls are tattooed, matching the one usually hiding under his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unbelievable!” Lup gushes. “So you’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>reaper </span>
  </em>
  <span>reaper?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh—well, no, not really, but I’m—I collect the people who run from the reapers.” He cringes. Explaining his job is never easy, but with the way the adults look at him, the way Angus bounces in his seat, it somehow feels dangerous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? I’m in the necromantic crimes center half the day, and Lup is in evidence testing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Lup gets to blow things up for Science!” Angus cheers, and Lup and Taako smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lup’s is wide, splitting her face and setting her eyes glittering, absolutely radiant, and Taako is hesitant, a great deal of effort put into changing the arrangement of his face. His lips don’t even part.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, come in, sit down, what a coincidence! Let us get you something to drink, Taako—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tension in the room jumps. Lup and Barry shoot each other a highly conspicuous look, but after a minute nod, Barry keeps talking. “—Remember that lemonade you always talked about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Taako says, voice hoarse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we’ve got lavender harvested, want to give it a shot?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taako’s eyes grow wide in an instant, ears twitching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just cutting up some lemons, Taako. You don’t have to.” Lup says, but Taako glances over to Kravitz and nods, biting his lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine. We can use your lavender, Angus.” He says to the boy, who beams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taako pushes his hair over his shoulder, the single braid long and loose, and Barry ducks out of the kitchen. The pantry door is open behind Taako, an embroidered apron on a hook left untouched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m guessing you haven’t been under Her employ terribly long, as you and Taako look so similar in age, but I’m glad to know I’m not the only magic-user in the suburb!” Kravitz tries, mostly speaking to Lup, and Barry laughs, hearty and kind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve been pretty cautious, ourselves, the last thing we want is extra attention.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taako places a jar of lavender on the counter, a handful of lemons beside it, and his hands tremble as he lifts a cutting board, rolling the lemons with light pressure along the counter. Behind him, Lup warms a pot of water on the stove before ducking out, too, and Taako sighs deeply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What’s the matter with him? Is he truly this poor of a cook? Why is it so tense in this house right now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns and stirs a cupful of sugar into the water, then another, and with a delicate, showy, practiced flourish, he crumbles the lavender into the pot. He stirs it, once, twice, then lets the ladle sit on the handle of the pot as he turns away. He opens a cabinet, places a pitcher and a juicer on the counter, then lifts a knife from the block and returns to the lemons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands are trembling so badly now that the light glints unnaturally from the blade, but he swipes through the lemons in easy, single strokes, leaving perfect halves behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone in the house is quiet, watching him work as he pushes his sleeves up to his elbows and begins crushing lemons into the juicer, hovering it with his other hand firmly over the pitcher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s stern, but not violent, with the fruits, and Kravitz is shocked at the sheer volume of juice he squeezes from them. He tosses the used lemons to the sink without looking, and stirs the pot of water once more as he brushes to the freezer, filling the pitcher with ice. Just as the water starts to boil, he takes it from the heat and pours it into the pitcher of lemon juice and ice, which crackles as it takes in the barely-purple syrup. He stirs it together once, twice, and places the pitcher on the kitchen island. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s only then that he realizes that he’s being watched, for he flushes and retreats within himself again, holding his elbows and letting his hair fall back into his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re mesmerizing to watch, T-man.” Lup speaks first, sweeping into the kitchen and drawing out several cups, filling them generously, handing one across the counter to Kravitz.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, very much.” He watches a morsel of lavender sink lazily through his glass, and though Lup sets a glass in front of Taako, he doesn’t touch it. She settles in next to Angus and he takes a little plastic cup eagerly from her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, mister Taako!” He chirps, and Lup laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, baby bear, Kravitz can know he’s your papa.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taako makes a face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one who encourages him to call me that?” He accuses halfheartedly, tapping long fingers on the countertop. “I’m not a crusty old man </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kravitz lifts his drink to his mouth so he can hide his smile. The weak humor in Taako’s voice has Kravitz enraptured, but he misses Lup’s response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Firstly, are there people who</span>
  <em>
    <span> can’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>know that Taako has a child? Second, why the hell was Taako so nervous?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The drink is just the perfect amount of tangy, the lavender cool and comforting, cold but not freezing. Angus already has his cup lifted up, emptying it, and Taako’s laugh is hoarse, forced, disused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Slow down, my little man, there’s plenty more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s delicious!” He cries, placing his cup back on the table, already empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I have to agree with you, Angus.” Kravitz says, and he’s rewarded with another grin from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lup is tilting her cup back, too, slamming it to the table with a cheer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell yeah, that’s what my baby brother can do!” She laughs, jumping back up and pouring herself and Angus another glass. Angus’ is up in the air before Lup is even sitting again, and Taako’s tightly-wound brow relaxes, posture straightening slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not the youngest, and I won’t tell you that again! And don’t teach my angel Angus any words he shouldn’t know.” He even wags a finger in mock threat at his sister, who laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard mention that Merlin used to be an outside cat? Where did you all move from?” Kravitz begins, sipping his drink again calmly. Barry smiles and swirls his glass in his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Taako and Angus used to spend a lot of time on the road, but we were ready for a change and they were ready to settle down at almost the exact same time. It worked out perfectly, we--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angus coughs, hard, his cup clattering to the table. He gasps in a deep breath and coughs, all but choking weakly, but manages,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before coughing again, harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re alright, buddy, just too fast, okay? Oh, oh, Taako, no, he’s okay!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kravitz’ eyes dart to Taako, pinned to the spot. He’s grayishly pale, knuckles white where they grip the countertop, body heaving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay, papa, really!” Angus manages, no longer coughing, but Taako sways where he stands before darting into the side hallway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of retching echoes back, and then Barry and Lup are both looking to Kravitz with strained expressions, Angus tucking into Lup’s side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Kravitz, but it seems like it just became a horrible time for a visit. Why don’t you stop by after work, Monday? We’d love to have you for dinner, we don’t know many people in our field.” Barry says, voice comforting, and Kravitz nods along, quickly setting his glass on the nearest flat surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, that--that sounds quite nice. Thank you, again, it was fantastic to meet all of you. Sorry it turned out like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of Taako being sick has subsided, but he hasn’t reemerged, and Angus slips off his seat and follows him into the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, this isn’t your fault! And you’re very welcome anytime!” Lup says, flapping her hand nonchalantly. “Six work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taako’s voice is shattered where it echoes into the great room.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Six.” Kravitz repeats, already at the door to let himself out. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My job is basically just driving and the entire time I was working I was writing in my head so now I have to slam this shit out like Kermit on a typewriter RIP</p><p>Also fair warning that the tags aren't jokes, we're really getting into the effects of trauma and the messy ass trip psychologists call recovery</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He scoops the broom up from the yard as he ducks back inside, but he’s got his eyes on the window as soon as he closes the garage door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the southern window on the front of the house, he can see the family recover.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taako is curled up tightly on the couch around Angus, who seems unperturbed, reading his book aloud. Occasionally, he points, and Taako reads something, but his lips barely move, and his arms are draped heavily around the boy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the other window just next to the garage, he can see Lup and Barry in the kitchen, the pitcher of lemonade between them as they lean over the countertop and whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kravitz feels better having names attached to the faces, but he still pretends to distract himself, pacing back in front of the television he left on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s on some cooking show now, and the television is old, sound warped and image fuzzy, the colors sort of spread out, but Kravitz hopes it at least looks convincing from the outside, and stalks up to the television to mute it so he can think more clearly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s kneeling in front of the television when the camera changes, and he’s suddenly face-to-face with Taako. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taako from across the street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He yelps and pulls back, but as soon as it settles he’s certain he can’t be right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Taako on TV is radiant, all wide, toothy smiles and clean, dramatic flutters of his hands, a dazzling wizard hat perched on his head to match an equally gaudy apron. His posture is perfect, and his ears are perked all the way up, pressing against the brim of his hat. He grins for the camera, and he’s got a gap between his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, welcome back, dolls! So happy to be—well, you’re not really here with me, but I’m there with you!—today. One of those sad side effects from being on TV, isn’t it? So many of you never get to see my lovely face in full definition.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice is staticky through the crappy television, but it’s definitely Taako’s voice, and as he winks brazenly and cheers erupt from what must be a live audience, his face is the clearest yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no denying it’s him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s alright, I’ll tell you my cooking secrets but not my skincare ones anyway, though they both boil down to the same concept. At least, with pomodoro. Get rid of that extra oil!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a dramatic, oversaturated sting as the audience laughs and Taako lifts a spindly, knobbed wand between his fingers, levitating the noodles from their bowl and lowering them to a different one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Each move he makes is with practiced confidence until the practice is almost invisible, and his eyes are </span>
  <em>
    <span>bright, alert, alive. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s completely different from the Taako across the street. Kravitz hazards another look, to find Taako’s head is limp on the couch cushion, and Angus is wiggling his hips until he’s laying more than sitting, too, tucking up under Taako’s arms and letting his book fall to the floor. He looks like a ghost, pale hair loose over his shoulders and falling over his face like a veil. He’s very thin, bony and sallow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s so overwhelmingly </span>
  <em>
    <span>gloomy</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Taako on TV swirls his wrist and a dramatic flash of glitter sparkles in front of the counter he’s working on, laughing elatedly as the audience </span>
  <em>
    <span>oohs</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>ahs</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He truly seems like he’s soaking in the spotlight, every turn of his head weightless, hair carefully curled and braided away from his face. His mouth, when not grinning, is the same shape as it is now, a focused half-pout, but it’s more focused than hurt when it’s interrupted with those radiant smiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I made the test version of this meal last week, and my husband -- oops! My </span>
  <em>
    <span>producer</span>
  </em>
  <span>,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chorus of coos rise from the crowd as Taako looks legitimately surprised at himself, but only for a moment, “wasn’t familiar with the concept of using olive oil as a sauce! To be fair, it can be a strange concept. The trick is to blend your herbs into the oil before adding your pasta.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no ring on his hand in the next shot, expert hands ribboning leaves of fresh basil before sliding them from the cutting board into a shallow pool of oil in a saucepan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There hasn’t yet been another man around the house, but Angus hasn’t spent any significant time away from the house outside of school. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clearly, producer-husband isn’t in the picture, but Taako’s also clearly not the same off-camera. How old is this show?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kravitz looks back across the street. Angus is asleep against Taako’s chest, little hands tangled up in the loose, flowy hair draped across them both. Lup and Barry are gone from the kitchen, and there’s no hint of them anywhere else in the house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kravitz settles into one of the armchairs, which squeaks with disuse — he decorated his house so nicely, and he’s not sure why anymore, he doesn’t have friends to invite over, no family to come visit — and looks back to the television. The Taako on screen is tossing pasta in his saucepan, folding tiny balls of white cheese in as he goes, and it’s accented with flicks of his wrist, lazy spellcasting to make the flames jump, or spin a noodle into a levitating heart shape, swaying his hips and speaking through it all. His voice is jovial, passionate as he describes his process, and yet strangely patient. He’d make an excellent teacher, Kravitz thinks, but he keeps replaying the Taako that had seemed incapable of making lemonade. That Taako, who had yet to hold a wand, who did his gardening by hand, who was wilted, weary, could not possibly have come from this Taako, whose voice was almost singsong as he plated his meal, garnishing it with a snap of his fingers and a puff of violet smoke, but it was undeniable, irrefutable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Taako on TV blows a kiss, waving emphatically as the show ends, and Kravitz feels his body warm uncontrollably. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks across the street a final time. The overhead light of the living room is off, now, a lamp on a side table illuminating Taako and Angus, a blanket carefully tucked around them, and that warm feeling doesn’t leave; instead, it has no problem settling into his stomach. Even asleep, Taako seems disturbed, and don’t elves not need to sleep, anyway? Not unless they’re seriously injured, or dying?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What the hell happened?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And Kravitz and Taako haven't even really spoken to each other yet, why do i do this</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>we got a long one boys, we got plot boys</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kravitz startles awake to a light rapping on the door. Somehow, he’s managed to fall asleep in his chair; his neck sears from where his head was propped back, and he pushes himself to his feet with a groan. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rarely does he use his human form at home, but since this family has moved in, he’s been keeping it more and more. He doesn’t want to scare Angus, he tells himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A quick glance out the office window tells him that it’s Barry, standing on the front porch, holding a different pitcher from yesterday, but with the same contents. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Kravitz is still wearing his clothes from yesterday. Such a terrible impression he’s giving off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, hi! Sorry to disturb, but, uh, we figured we should offer you the rest of the lemonade from yesterday! Taako asked us to throw it out, but come on, what a waste, you know?” Barry laughs lightly, almost nervously, having spoken as soon as the door opened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no, that’s too generous, I can’t—“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“—No, really, we’re going to have to dump it if I take it back over there.” Barry says, and his voice is still amicable, but it dawns on Kravitz that Barry is fidgety, looks much more serious than he had yesterday. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...I hate to take so much without giving at least something back. Can I offer you a cup of coffee?” Kravitz steps back and opens the door slightly. Barry grins, of course he does, and pats Kravitz’ arm as he steps inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look at you, I’m so glad we managed to catch you before we got too settled here. It must have been awful to have been the only house in the neighborhood using magic, you saved us from that fate early!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kravitz only smiles, neglecting to mention that his magic doesn’t come with a wand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leads Barry inside, which is really something similar to the house across the street, just more compact; the living room sits at the front of the house and the kitchen at the back, rather than side by side, but either way, it’s one open room, separated by an island counter, and for Kravitz, the front half of the house is carpeted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come in, sit down! Black coffee?” Kravitz gestures to one of the stools at the island, taking the pitcher from Barry. It’s embarrassingly easy to find space for it in the fridge; Kravitz knows that he can eat, but he doesn’t have to, so he just...doesn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Must be an undead thing, everyone in the office drinks black coffee.” Barry comments, and with his back turned, Kravitz assumes that this is a no. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, sorry, sugar, then? I don’t really have milk…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no, Krav, you misunderstand me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ears tingling at his new nickname, Kravitz turns back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A lich smiles at him from the other side of the island. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, dear god!” Kravitz yelps, human form evaporating as he panics, and the mummified, shrouded figure in wireframe glasses laughs as his skin knits back together, placid face already so endeared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, now, that’s a fascinating form! This is your natural shape, I’m assuming?” Barry begins, a glimmer in his eye as he observes a skeletal Kravitz almost invasively. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sighing, Kravitz manages to pull himself back together, and then he’s laughing weakly, too, human hands bracing on the counter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, yes, yes, and thanks for the scare. How are you keeping it together? Are you really—?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He clears his throat, and Barry flushes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. Really. It’s, uh, it was a strange process, but one day Lup looked at me and realized I was getting old...neither of us could handle the thought. It’s amazing, how the psyche clings to love. Truly, a gorgeous thing. But the rotting flesh part is...undesirable, to say the least.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Trust me, I know. You only show up to a dog park as a skeleton once before you figure it out.” Kravitz says as he tries to recover from that fucking bombshell, that his neighbors, his coworkers, are so unfathomably powerful that their </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> keeps them sane, keeps their bodies from tearing at the seams, but Barry is howling with laughter, and lifts his glasses to wipe at his eye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I knew I liked you the moment you walked in!” Barry says, and it sets Kravitz alight again. He finally finds the coffeemaker from the cupboard he’d banished it to, plugging it in and rushing to set it up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I came by to apologize, again, for yesterday. And to thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank me?” Kravitz repeats dumbly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barry seems at least slightly surprised, fidgeting his thumb around his wedding band. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, when we went to bed last night, we were sort of expecting to wake up to paparazzi crushing our strawberries. We figured you’d recognized Taako, so we really are grateful that you kept it to yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deciding it’s in his best interest to play dumb, Kravitz scoops ground coffee into the machine and cocks his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Recognize him?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” Barry says, deflated, defeated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I’m not up-to-date on human — if you’d rather, we can just pretend this conversation didn’t happen.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, if you don’t know now then I’d like to explain it to you, if you’ll let me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The coffeemaker hisses and burbles, and Kravitz turns back to Barry to listen while the machine works. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By all means.” Kravitz gestures with an open hand between them. Barry takes a deep breath, fidgeting already. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Taako ran a cooking show that was really popular for a couple of years, and ended up marrying his producer—Angus’ other parent. Taako wasn’t ever really expecting it to succeed, but it was, it — it blew up, before we knew it he was being recognized on the street, people wanted autographs, paparazzi started chasing him down. He took it really well, for a really long time, he and Lup are both such showmen, but then Angus came along and he tried to scale back, tried to pass the show off at first, then tried to get out of it entirely, but…his husband wasn’t having any of it. Lup and I hadn’t really realized until it was too late, it always goes that way, but...he wasn’t a very good man, Kravitz. He and Taako got married only after Taako’s show really blew up, and when Taako tried to pull back, tried to spend more time with his son…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barry rubbed his jaw, staring distantly at the countertop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...The whole story isn’t really clear, nobody is really certain of what happened, or how, but as good as we can tell, he tried to poison Taako by swapping his cooking ingredients on set. But, on the show, Taako didn’t eat what he made, he always ate the test version, so he could feed the show version to the audience.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, god.” Kravitz says. This is starting to ring a bell. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barry nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Three dozen people died. And everyone thought it was Taako’s fault, for months. Taako included. By the time the truth came out, his husband had already tried again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kravitz is lightheaded where he stands, room spinning around him. Is that why Taako looks so awful? Is he still recovering? Is he still somehow poisoned? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>unattractive</span>
  </em>
  <span>, dour as he is, but he’s certainly not oozing the sex appeal he carried on camera. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s so horrible.” He finds himself saying, and Barry nods with a sigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Taako and Angus are with us, now, obviously, and safe, but he disappeared right after Taako did, and...we moved way out here in the hopes that nobody would recognize Taako, at least until the authorities catch up to his ex. So...we’d really appreciate it if you kept our family to yourself. Our privacy means a lot to us, clearly.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kravitz nods emphatically as soon as Barry’s done talking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, of course! Don’t worry about anything, I — honestly, I wouldn’t even have anyone to tell. I’ve been under the employ of the Raven Queen for the better part of the last millenia...keeping friends was never my strong suit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kravitz cringes. That didn’t come out sounding quite right, but Barry seems to get it, smiling with relief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I suppose now you have us. Of all the coincidences in the world—how did you end up out here, yourself?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kravitz smiles to keep himself distracted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I used to spend my time entirely in the other planes, mostly managerial work, but then necromantic crimes began to increase in frequency — I actually remember a rather recent case, a young couple defying death? — and She pulled me into this plane, this realm. She set me out and put me back in a human body, which was...strange, I tell you, after some seven centuries without one, and I was mostly occupying homes left behind by some of our more prolific hunts, but...I grew up in this part of the world, all that time ago, so this plot of land opened up maybe five years ago, and...it’s home now. Again. I don’t really know. It’s nothing like what I remembered, but...it’s still familiar.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kravitz jumps as the coffeemaker chirps, done working, and busies himself with finding mugs. His hands shake as he fills them -- very suddenly, he realizes that he can’t remember anyone visiting because nobody ever has -- and Barry is so sweet, fidgeting with his ring again as Kravitz passes a mug over the counter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, bud. For everything, you know.” Barry cradles the mug, sipping absently. “Your insight is really--we, uh, it’s not often you run into other immortals. We weren’t sure what to expect…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s good you have each other.” Kravitz says, chest tight. He looks away and sips his coffee. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve been alone?” Barry says, and it’s not pitiful, just conversational, but Kravitz is choking on his coffee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m a workaholic. Always have been. I’ll get around to it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barry nods with a patient smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, it’s not every day you end up in a room with a lich, across the street from another. If there’s anyone to tell you there’s time, it’s us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s Taako doing?” Kravitz changes the subject as soon as Barry finishes. “Yesterday makes a lot more sense, now…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barry grits his teeth and puffs his cheeks out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, not great. I appreciate that you’re asking, though! He doesn’t really -- he hasn’t spoken to anyone outside his family in...oh, at least a month. I know it might not look like it now, but he used to be...even before he ended up famous, he moved like he owned every room he walked into. He was so witty, so clever...it doesn’t look like it anymore, I know. I miss the Taako with all the glitter…” Barry sighs deeply into his mug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He seems surprised to see Kravitz still looking at him when he looks back up, suddenly stuttering and standing. “Uh, I mean -- I just meant -- we’re glad to get to know you. Taako might not know how to say it, not right now, but he appreciates your understanding. But -- I’ll get out of your hair for now, ‘kay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Already standing, Barry sets his mug on the counter and backs away for the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for stopping by, Barry. Come by anytime.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With another genuine smile that makes Kravitz warm from the inside out, Barry ducks outside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watches him stroll back across the street, to where Angus is on the front porch swing, legs swaying giddily, and Taako is crouched in the mulch, hands careful over a hydrangea bush.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>anyway yeah we all know what happened in canon but I want DRAMA </p>
<p>Also I need opinions if Taako is technically still married but not *with* his husband could dating still be classified as cheating? I mean I feel like the answer is yes but <br/>whu huh</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments always appreciated I feel like the Taako-poisoning-people thing really isn't discussed enough give me yalls thots</p></blockquote></div></div>
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